


A Trace of Red

by Moontyger



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-04
Updated: 2012-02-04
Packaged: 2017-10-30 14:16:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/332659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moontyger/pseuds/Moontyger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was late and Aveline was tired – tired enough that she almost missed that there was a light in her office when there shouldn't be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Trace of Red

It was late and Aveline was tired – tired enough that she almost missed that there was a light in her office when there shouldn't be. _What is it now?_ It had been a long and difficult patrol; all she wanted was to finish the paperwork so she could go home. But she was the Guard Captain and she had her duty. Stifling her urge to groan, she assumed a serious expression and strode through the door, ready to handle anything.

Anything, that is, except Isabela. The pirate was leaning against Aveline's desk, nearly pushing over paperwork with her rear end, and idly flipping a knife end over end. For a moment, she watched it, eyes tracing its path, nearly wincing as Isabela caught it at the very last minute, before it would have plunged into the floor.

“Have you come to turn yourself in?” It wasn't very welcoming, but she couldn't help it. She was tired and Isabela seemed to enjoy taking advantage of their association. “What have you done this time?”

“Can't I just drop in to see an old friend?” Smiling lazily, Isabela pushed herself off the desk and strolled in Aveline's direction, her hips rolling in that way she had, the one that drew all eyes to something as simple as walking. She stopped, just that tiny bit too close, and looked at Aveline with eyes that were too serious for the rest of her expression. “An old friend who looks to be working herself too hard again.”

“I'm fine.” Lips pressed tightly together, her own movements stiff and awkward in comparison, Aveline brushed past Isabela and headed for her desk. “I just need to finish this and then I can go home.” _If you leave me alone _was the unspoken addendum, left unsaid because she knew it was pointless. Isabela was going to do what she wanted to do – she always did. Sometimes Aveline even admired it, though she'd never tell her that. It would just feed that massive ego.__

“Home, where you'll be all alone? Until you get up and do it all over again tomorrow?” Isabela shook her head and followed, perching on the edge of the desk, one bare brown thigh almost on top of the paperwork Aveline had been intending to work on. “I'm amazed you haven't keeled over from sheer boredom.”

Aveline sighed, shoving her sweaty hair off her forehead and wishing she dared massage her temples. Her head ached, but if she admitted it, Isabela would just insist she was right, probably try to drag her out for her idea of relaxation, probably something either involving the Blooming Rose or likely to lead to an even worse headache tomorrow. Probably both. “What is it you want?”

“I _want_ you to have some fun once in awhile. See the world beyond this office – and not just on patrol.” Isabela looked at her again and shook her head. “Do you even notice anything but signs of trouble while you're out there?”

“Of course I do.”

“Liar.” Seating herself more firmly on the desk, she produced the knife again. It was obvious that she had no intention of leaving.

Gritting her teeth, Aveline turned her attention to her paperwork, starting to fill out the report of tonight's patrol. “Interrupted a mugging in Docks area, evidence suggests...” Damn that slattern, it was hard to concentrate with her right there, reading her reports upside down (assuming she even _could_ read - an uncharitable thought, but it suited her current mood) and flipping that damn knife. She kept seeing the movement out of the corner of her eye, the way it flashed in the firelight as it traveled up and down, over and over again.

“You like it, don't you?”

“What?” Aveline refused to look up, determined not to be bated.

“The knife. Does it remind you of someone? Your husband, Wesley, did he ever...” The knife landed, point first, in the middle of Aveline's report and stuck there, quivering slightly. “Oops.”

Aveline looked up, face redder than her hair. “Get out, whore.”

But Isabela didn't seem inclined to go. “It's not so strange, you know. Plenty of people like that kind of thing.” She retrieved her knife, holding it loosely in her hand. Then, when she was sure Aveline was watching, she lifted it to her lips and deliberately licked the blade, tongue caressing it in a way that was almost obscene. “I'm pretty good with a knife, you know. Maybe you should let me...”

“Out!” Pushed past endurance now, Aveline stood and pointed toward the door.

With the sort of shrug that Aveline was certain Isabela had to have practiced – no one could manage to show off quite so much with the motion otherwise – the pirate got to her feet and headed for the door. “Another time, then.”

“Never.”

“Never's an awfully long time.” Isabela had reached the doorway and she paused there, glancing back over her shoulder. A glimpse of her mischievous smile was the only warning Aveline had. “Catch!”

Aveline raised her hand automatically, cursing when she missed and cut her hand on the blade Isabela had sent hurtling toward her. Its owner was no longer visible, but she could still hear her knowing laughter drifting through the door.

She glanced at the knife in her hand, honed blade winking like a promise, like the woman it belonged to. The hilt was still faintly warm from her hand. Shaking her head, Aveline was surprised to find that she was smiling. Maybe never was a bit too long after all.


End file.
